Genuine Christian literature can well be compared to an immense treasure chest filled with the most varied precious objects.
There is nothing lacking in this universe of wonders: from the writings of the Fathers of the Church, which offer us the most solid foundations of the Catholic Faith, to the great syntheses of Theology, not to mention treatises on mysticism or morality, catechesis, hagiographies, retreat meditations and other devotional readings…
They are works upon works, the fruit of love for God and the experience of generations, which constitute abundant spiritual nourishment for Catholics of all times.
However, if we analyse this immense literary production born of the Church, we often encounter a real paradox: monuments of writing, works by giants of thought, are not rarely passed over in favour of pages outlined with virtually no stylistic recourse, in the simplicity of a narrative whose only greatness lies in the depth of its content.
How can we explain this contradiction? The answer seems to lie in the fact that few things epitomize so clearly divine power as well as human weakness, in which God’s strength is fully revealed (cf. 2 Cor 12:9).
The Diary of Divine Mercy is the testimony of the infinite love of a God who desires to welcome, forgive and sanctify souls
In this way, we should not be surprised that more conversions have taken place in recent times due to the Story of a Soul – to cite just one example – than through the reading of any patristic work… After all, the same God who inspired sublime thoughts of vertiginous grandeur in St. John Chrysostom, St. Ambrose or even St. Augustine, can also associate the humble writings of an unknown Carmelite nun – such as St. Therese of the Child Jesus – with the spiritual renewal of thousands, perhaps millions, of the faithful. These are the mysteries of Providence…
A similar phenomenon has taken place in relation to a book that has become very popular in recent decades: the Diary of St. Faustina, also known as the Diary of Divine Mercy, six manuscripts that testify to the infinite love of a God who longs to welcome, forgive and sanctify souls.
Written out of obedience
The text was written by the Saint during the last four years of her life, on the express orders of her confessor and of Our Lord Jesus Christ Himself. On June 4, 1937, the Redeemer addressed her in these terms: “My daughter, be diligent in writing down every sentence I tell you concerning My mercy, because this is meant for a great number of souls who will profit from it.”1
In language that was simple but permeated with supernatural unction, St. Faustina narrated the story of her vocation
In simple language, but imbued with that supernatural unction that only virtue can bestow, the nun tells the story of her vocation and sets out her spiritual goals and struggles, without hiding the difficulties and temptations that came her way. Could there be any greater proof of the purity of intention of this humble writer, and of the authenticity of her revelations, than the admirable simplicity of her accounts?
In the midst of descriptions of extraordinary mystical graces, phrases like these punctuate the diary from beginning to end: “As regards Holy Confession, I shall choose what costs and humiliates me most. Sometimes a trifle costs more than something greater”; or “The rules that I most often fail to obey: sometimes I break silence; disobedience to the signal of the bell; sometimes I meddle in other people’s affairs. I will do my very best to improve.”2
In the divine school of mercy
Above all, the diary is an extraordinary account of the apparitions of the Merciful Jesus, His words, His wishes and His counsel. Over the course of the six notebooks she wrote, St. Faustina bequeathed to the Church one of the most authentic treatises on Divine Mercy ever known.
From the very first pages, the nun recognized the gratuitousness of her being chosen for such a high supernatural mission. But furthermore, she considers her miseries and weaknesses indispensable, so that the Saviour’s mercy can be manifested in her in all its magnitude: “I know very well what I am of myself, because for this purpose Jesus has opened the eyes of my soul; I am an abyss of misery, and hence I understand that whatever good there is in my soul consists solely of His holy grace. The knowledge of my own misery allows me, at the same time, to know the immensity of Your mercy. In my own interior life, I am looking with one eye at the abyss of my misery and baseness, and with the other, at the abyss of Your mercy, O God.”3
In many ways, Our Lord tries to teach His apprentice to walk the paths of abandonment and trust: “My daughter, let nothing frighten or disconcert you. Remain deeply at peace. Everything is in My hands.”4
Our Lord’s wish is very clear: Faustina’s conduct towards God should be that of a child in her father’s arms. “I want to teach you spiritual childhood,” Jesus said on another occasion, “I want you to be very little, because when you are little, I carry you close to My Heart.”5
A lesson overflowing with goodness
One day, when the nun had told Our Lord about her spiritual needs with a certain degree of fear and anguish, she heard this sublime lesson from Him:6
“Imagine that you are the sovereign of all the world and have the power to dispose of all things according to your good pleasure. You have the power to do all the good you want, and suddenly a little child knocks on your door, all trembling and in tears and, trusting in your kindness, asks for a piece of bread lest he die of starvation. What would you do for this child? Answer Me, my daughter.”
To which Faustina replied:
“Jesus, I would give the child all it asked and a thousand times more.”
“That” – concluded the Saviour – “is how I am treating your soul.”
“My child, you please Me most by suffering”
The course of learning at this divine school would be incomplete if it failed to contemplate a reality that is inseparable from holiness. Our Lord Himself once declared to her: “You often call Me your Master. This is pleasing to My Heart; but do not forget, My disciple, that you are a disciple of a crucified Master. Let that one word be enough for you. You know what is contained in the cross.”7
Little by little, Jesus would reveal to this chosen soul the mysteries surrounding the terrible and luminous road of suffering.
The popular saying goes that a friend in need is a friend indeed, and there is truth in this. It is in suffering that love is crystallized and manifests itself in all its splendour. Thus, Faustina could not offer God the tribute of trust separately from the offering of her pain. The two had always to be united: “My child, you please Me most by suffering. In your physical as well as your mental sufferings, My daughter, do not seek sympathy from creatures. I want the fragrance of your suffering to be pure and unadulterated. […] The more you will come to love suffering, My daughter, the purer your love for Me will be.”8
It is precisely at these moments that abandonment to Providence must take on the heroic proportions befitting a holy soul. And where can we find the strength to suffer, if not in the same God who asks that suffering of us? This is also what Our Lord taught Faustina: “Lay your head on My shoulder; rest and regain your strength. I am always with you.”9
The thermometer of love
Making His divine voice heard in the middle of the 20th century, in a simple Polish convent, the Saviour addressed His appeal to a humanity that was increasingly distanced from God’s Law and increasingly forgetful of His infinite mercy.
May the words of so a merciful God, set down with such simplicity in that diary, encourage us to offer even our miseries to Him
“O that today you would hearken to his voice! Harden not your hearts” (Ps 94:7-8). May the words of a merciful God, enshrined in such a simple diary, encourage us to offer God what we sometimes find so difficult to recognize: our miseries. God’s desire is no other: “My daughter,” Our Lord said to the religious on one occasion, “look into the abyss of My mercy and give praise and glory to this mercy of mine. Do it in this way: Gather all sinners from the entire world and immerse them in the abyss of My mercy. I want to give Myself to souls; I yearn for souls, My daughter.”10
Let us therefore follow the example set by St. Faustina Kowalska. Like children, let us abandon our lives into the hands of our Heavenly Father and allow Him to guide us. We will then see how our conversion will begin with a great act of confidence in the infinite love of the Merciful Jesus. ◊
Notes
1 ST. FAUSTINA KOWALSKA. Diary. Divine Mercy in My Soul, n.1142. Marian Press: Stockbridge MA, 2008. The remaining citations from the diary, all transcribed from the same edition, will be indicated only by the internal numbering of the work.
2 Idem, n.225-226.
3 Idem, n.56.
4 Idem, n.219.
5 Idem, n.1481.
6 Cf. Idem, n.229.
7 Idem, n.1513.
8 Idem, n.279.
9 Idem, n.498.
10 Idem, n.206.
